Such an interesting post, and of course I have thoughts. 😉 I have always wanted to get Italian citizenship, and thought it was strange that my elder cousins could but I cannot. My mother was born after her parents were naturalized in Canada, to help avoid deportation in WW2. It is hard to argue against requirements around voting and taxes, and I think you make a great point about the responsibility citizenship entails. I can’t help feeling that sense of loss described in the article, though. The government doesn’t see me as Italian, and yet when I was in Cosenza, so many people commented on how I looked local to Calabria. So I must carry the Italian nose but not the passport, and somehow that must be enough.
Hi Simone! Thanks for your very thoughtful comment. I too carry the nose and not the passport 😩. I have thought more about this and will write more, and for me, citizenship is about the present of a country, but the desire for bloodline citizenship is often about an Italy of the past. And it is often a romanticized past. For me, the hard parts of that Italy are too near, and citizenship, while it would definitely be cool, would bring me no closer to what has been lost. Still, the desire for connection to Italy from the diaspora is real, and meaningful. It’s in how we look, how we see our families, and the world. For me, connection comes from knowing the language, which helps me see Italy as a whole, past and present, and keep it close. Thank you for helping me (a fellow cosentina) thinking about this more! 🩷
My siblings and I are in the process of trying to obtain Greek citizenship. It’s a rigamarole—exhausting, tedious bureaucracy—and there have definitely been moments when we’ve wanted to throw in the towel. But I keep pushing forward because, deep down, there’s a tiny part of me that dreams of living there someday. The idea of keeping that door open feels important to me. I might be 90 by the time it’s approved— but at least I’ll be retired in the motherland, sipping wine, surrounded by goats :)
Such an interesting post, and of course I have thoughts. 😉 I have always wanted to get Italian citizenship, and thought it was strange that my elder cousins could but I cannot. My mother was born after her parents were naturalized in Canada, to help avoid deportation in WW2. It is hard to argue against requirements around voting and taxes, and I think you make a great point about the responsibility citizenship entails. I can’t help feeling that sense of loss described in the article, though. The government doesn’t see me as Italian, and yet when I was in Cosenza, so many people commented on how I looked local to Calabria. So I must carry the Italian nose but not the passport, and somehow that must be enough.
Hi Simone! Thanks for your very thoughtful comment. I too carry the nose and not the passport 😩. I have thought more about this and will write more, and for me, citizenship is about the present of a country, but the desire for bloodline citizenship is often about an Italy of the past. And it is often a romanticized past. For me, the hard parts of that Italy are too near, and citizenship, while it would definitely be cool, would bring me no closer to what has been lost. Still, the desire for connection to Italy from the diaspora is real, and meaningful. It’s in how we look, how we see our families, and the world. For me, connection comes from knowing the language, which helps me see Italy as a whole, past and present, and keep it close. Thank you for helping me (a fellow cosentina) thinking about this more! 🩷
ALSO....there is such an incredible resemblance between you and the beautiful people in the photo you posted! xo
🩷
My siblings and I are in the process of trying to obtain Greek citizenship. It’s a rigamarole—exhausting, tedious bureaucracy—and there have definitely been moments when we’ve wanted to throw in the towel. But I keep pushing forward because, deep down, there’s a tiny part of me that dreams of living there someday. The idea of keeping that door open feels important to me. I might be 90 by the time it’s approved— but at least I’ll be retired in the motherland, sipping wine, surrounded by goats :)
I hope you do, and I will come visit you!